


Jasmine Dreams

by cupofgenmaicha (orphan_account)



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, I don't know how to write smut, Lots of kissing, M/M, Rimming, Royalty AU, Sad, Vaguely historical fantasy, forbidden relationship, lbr it's making love, lots of feelings, mentions of war and violence, saying goodbye, soft smut, somber
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 09:25:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18989866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/cupofgenmaicha
Summary: The scent of jasmine will always remind Hyunwoo of their last night together.





	Jasmine Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> If you've read any of my other fics, you know that I _never_ write smut, even fairly non-explicit scenes like in this story. Even though I feel a bit anxious about posting this publicly, the story reflects how I've been feeling lately and I felt compelled to write and share it.
> 
> Please enjoy!
> 
> ***Please do not repost my fics! Thank you!***

It is already late afternoon by the time they crest the final hill and glimpse their first view of the fertile green valley below. The rain has stopped, but moisture still clings to the lush foliage and drips from wildflower petals, painting the landscape in brilliant hues of saturated watercolor.

Hyunwoo leads the procession, his horse stirring up a deep earthy fragrance of mud and grass as he steers the grey stallion to a flat, uncultivated field outside the village where they will set up camp for the evening. The village is small and unassuming; it straddles a river on the far south-eastern border of the Gyeongso Kingdom, delineating the Kingdom from its neighbor. Hyunwoo is familiar with this far-flung corner, and as captain of the Royal Guard, he’s fought battles all around this long-disputed border town. 

Hyunwoo slows his horse to a walk and hears the men behind him begin to unload the tents and the night’s provisions. His horse shifts underneath him and he whispers calming words as he pats the stallion’s neck. Cheerful chatter rises up from the town—once war-torn, it is now effervescent, bustling with well-wishers from all over both kingdoms.

A palace constructed of wood, with painted green and red columns, sits at a commanding post on a hill far in the distance—and it is there that the wedding will take place the next morning. After over one hundred years of fighting, the two kingdoms have reached a peace agreement, settling every heart in the Kingdom—every heart but Hyunwoo’s. 

He feels a presence approach to his right. “So this is the village.”

“It is, your Highness,” Hyunwoo answers as he keeps his eyes fixed on the horizon, not daring to look at the Crown Prince on horseback next to him. “The seaport is just on the other side of the hill in Southern Beom. You’ve always wanted to see the ocean.”

Changkyun hums, disinterested. “Where will we be sleeping tonight?”

“There is a private room reserved for you at Goyohan Inn and I will set up camp with the others. Secretary Yoo will give you the day’s report and one of the attendants will bathe you in preparation for the—” he pauses, clears his throat, then continues in a rush, “—celebration tomorrow. And, of course, our best guards will be posted outside your room throughout the night—”

The Prince brushes a warm hand up Hyunwoo’s forearm and the rest of the words die in his throat. “I don’t want any of them,” Changkyun says, voice low and soft. “I only want you.”

Hyunwoo swallows thickly and closes his eyes. “Your majesty,” he begins calmly, voice strong and convincing, “I thought we agreed that it would be best for us to not spend too much time alone together anymore. The King and Queen will be arriving in the morning, and there are rumors circulating. Members of the court are growing suspicious.”

“The court can burn in Hell, Hyunwoo,” Changkyun spits sharply, then sighs when Hyunwoo remains silent. “I don’t care what they think,” he continues quietly as he grazes careful fingers along Hyunwoo’s jaw. “I want to spend tonight with you—and I think you want that too.”

Hyunwoo wars with himself, but his eyes lift to meet the Prince’s, and he instantly regrets it. Sure, Changkyun is gorgeous, especially with the waning late afternoon light highlighting the apples of his cheeks and grazing his sharp jaw. But Hyunwoo isn’t awestruck by the Prince’s beauty.

When he first met Changkyun nearly five years ago, he had recently been promoted to the rank of captain after years of working as a lowly foot soldier. With his gaze locked on the floor in front of him, he didn’t dare look up from his deep bow, terrified of angering a member of the royal family and permanently marring the Son family name. 

“Can you use weapons?” The Prince had asked him and Hyunwoo was so startled to hear him speak, that his eyes snapped up to meet the Prince's. Dark, intelligent and smoldering with interest, the Prince’s eyes had captivated him. When he didn’t answer, the Prince continued lightly, a smile tugging at his lips, “You are a captain now, correct?” 

Now he holds Changkyun’s warm gaze, its familiarity drawing him in and softening his resolve. As night begins to fall, the men in camp light paper lanterns, and they glow like fireflies in twilight.  Soft hoofbeats interrupt the charged silence and Hyunwoo finally breaks eye contact. 

Lee Hoseok, a member of the Royal Guard, rides up to them and bows his head as he addresses the Prince. “Your Highness, your room is ready for you. Where would you like to take your evening meal?”

“In my quarters.”

“Yes, Prince,” the guard answers with deference. “I will arrange for your meal after Secretary Yoo debriefs you. An attendant will join you shortly so you may bathe and—”

“Captain Son will join me tonight—,” Changkyun interrupts and Hyunwoo’s cheeks instantly flare, “—and only him.”

Hyunwoo’s friend and second-in-command shoots him a worried look. “With all due respect, Your Highness,” he speaks slowly, dragging his eyes away from Hyunwoo as he carefully enunciates each word, “the men need Captain Son in camp tonight.”

“And I need him with me.” Changkyun’s voice is soft but leaves no room for argument.

Hoseok clears his throat. “As you wish, Your Majesty,” he concedes, then looks pointedly at Hyunwoo. “The men will expect you in camp immediately after you debrief His Excellency. I will have Hyungwon set up your bed in our tent.”

Hyunwoo nods and watches the guard ride off, releasing a tense breath when the two men are alone once again.

“Come,” Changkyun commands softly as he rides toward the Inn. They dismount and leave their horses with stable attendants and the innkeeper’s wife greets them with a deep, gracious bow. She shows them to a well-kept room; it is simple, but clean, with a large futon dressed with high-quality satin and a deep copper bathing basin in the corner. A fire is already burning, its heat much welcome after a full day of riding through the cool, damp countryside. The woman leaves the two men alone and if she is surprised that the captain of the Royal Guard is tending to the Prince rather than a servant, she wisely stays silent. 

“Will you undress me?” Changkyun asks once they are alone.

“I’m here to give you the report, Your Highness.”

“I know what you’re doing, Hyunwoo. You’re drawing a line between us—a line that doesn’t need to exist.”

“But it does exist.” Hyunwoo keeps his eyes averted. They are standing so close to each other that he can almost feel the heat radiating off the Prince’s skin. His fingers twitch against his side with all the effort it takes not to touch him.

“I don’t want it to—”

“But it does exist, Changkyun,” Hyunwoo repeats sternly as his chest heaves. “You will be wed tomorrow.”

“I’m not married tonight,” he states with finality as he unbuttons his mid-weight riding coat, removing it and setting it on a wooden stool.

“What are you doing?” Hyunwoo asks, voice hushed, feeling helpless as he watches the other man continue to undress.

“I’m going to take a bath,” he answers with a shrug of his shoulders. “Please ring for hot water.”

Hyunwoo hesitates. Licks his lips. If he stays, he knows it will only lead to heartbreak. But if he leaves? He’ll regret the decision for the rest of his life.

So he rings for the woman; she works efficiently, filling the tub with hot water, stoking the fire and then leaving them alone with a bow of her head. Hyunwoo can’t help but openly stare as Changkyun fully undresses;  his own body reacts as his eyes follow the lines of the Prince’s toned body. He shakes his head, feeling slightly dazed, and searches for something else—something dry and boring—to focus on. Oh yes, the daily report.

It’s like cool water being poured over his head as he monotonously recites the day’s events. Changkyun carefully folds his clothes, nodding his head, obviously not listening. “And then tomorrow—”

Changkyun lays a warm hand on Hyunwoo’s chest, abruptly stopping the flow of words. “I don’t want to talk about tomorrow. Join me,” he proposes as he nudges him toward the tub. Steam rises from the water making the air thick, almost hazy. “Please, Hyunwoo. You—smell bad.”

A startled laugh tears out of Hyunwoo’s throat and he catches the teasing glint in Changkyun’s eyes. For the first time in months he feels a familiar ease around the Prince—a kind of comfort he hasn’t felt since before the marriage news was announced. Before the King began to look at him with suspicion.

During the first few months of their budding friendship, he only met with Changkyun on occasion to teach him archery. The Prince was different than the rest of the royal family and Hyunwoo was fascinated by his unique view on the world. Rather than focusing on plundering and acquiring more—wealth, power, land—he crafted strategy. Counterintelligence that would keep war away from those who tended to suffer most. Changkyun was similar to himself in some ways—serious about constantly improving on a skill to the point of mastery—but there was something unusual about him that made Hyunwoo watch his movements for a few seconds too long, adjust his fingers on the bow just to touch him. 

Hyunwoo’s father is proud to be the general of the Royal Guard and he raised his son in a cold, methodical military household. From infancy he trained Hyunwoo to be a fierce warrior. To never show mercy. But Hyunwoo was never the son his father wanted him to be. Too kind, too gentle—the general tried to beat it out of him. 

And it would have worked if he never befriended Changkyun.

Hyunwoo’s eyes now land on the handcrafted copper washing basin; a rare luxury, it is large enough for the two men to sit in comfortably. Next to the tub is a small table with a silver tray; arranged on it are several individual silver containers holding herb-infused soap, dried herbs, and flowers. Hyunwoo looks down at the delicate white blossoms and realizes belatedly that it is jasmine. Imported and exotic, the blossoms are an extravagance that are only afforded for very special celebrations. The Kingdom of Gyeongso is mostly landlocked, its land amidst mountains and a coastline of sheer rock. The newly achieved peace will provide the Kingdom with access to the sea. To trade. Jasmine will be more widely available now, he muses darkly as he adds the flowers to the steamy water. 

The jasmine blooms in the water, scenting the air around them, and the fire continues to roar, its flames producing a warm glow. Whenever Changkyun discusses military or trade strategy, his eyes become clouded and his face fierce, but right now as he lowers into the hot water and sighs happily, his face is unguarded, almost soft. 

It has been nearly three years since Hyunwoo admitted to himself that he is in love with his Prince—with Changkyun. One thousand days of yearning, of wanting, of being close but rarely touching. He forgot how to breathe the first time Changkyun touched him; the simple brush of his fingers lit up Hyunwoo’s entire body—and he felt the touch for days afterward, fingerprints burned into his skin. 

_It is forbidden to touch the Prince_ , he reminds himself as he lowers into the hot water across from Changkyun, _and the penalty is death_. 

He makes a small sound of surprise when Changkyun begins scrubbing soap into his skin. He stills the Prince’s hand. “Let me.”

Changkyun shakes his head, warmth and affection shining bright in his eyes. “Tonight I’m not a prince and you’re not a member of the Royal Guard. We’re Changkyun and Hyunwoo—and I want to take care of you.”

His earnestness punches a hole in Hyunwoo’s lungs and he lifts Changkyun’s hand out of the water and kisses his palm, then his wrist, feeling his pulse jump under his lips. “You smell like jasmine.”

“And now you do too,” Changkyun whispers, leaning in even closer. Hyunwoo’s eyes flick down to Changkyun’s lips; they look so soft. Unbelievably kissable. He tries to remember why they aren’t supposed to be together. Right, it’s illegal—but then Changkyun closes the distance and his mind goes blank.

_Oh God, he’s kissing me_ , he thinks dizzily, pulling back briefly to look into Changkyun’s eyes, only to have the Prince make a needy noise in the back of his throat. Then they are kissing again. It’s been countless days of wanting. Of need smoldering low in Hyunwoo’s stomach—and it feels like a dream to have Changkyun pressed up against him, fingers in his hair and nails scratching down his back. His mouth feels hot underneath Hyunwoo’s as they kiss slow and deep and insistent; he pulls back to catch his breath, scattering gentle kisses over Changkyun’s nose, his cheeks, his forehead, then back to his lips.

There’s a pounding on the door that makes them both freeze, but the kiss is still alive, thrumming in the intimate space between them; after a few moments of silence, Hyunwoo leans in to close the distance again. 

“Your evening meal is ready, Your Majesty,” the woman calls out cautiously, her voice muffled through the door.

Changkyun huffs out a laugh and briefly rests his forehead against Hyunwoo’s shoulder, then gestures for him to answer the door.

“I’m all wet,” Hyunwoo hisses. “She’s going to suspect.”

Changkyun merely shrugs and his lips curl into a lopsided grin. “I think she already knows.”

Hyunwoo rushes to dry himself and haphazardly throws on some clothes, realizing as he is opening the door that his linen undershirt is on backwards. Luckily, the woman doesn’t even look at him; she merely shoves the tray of food into his hands and hastily runs back down the stairs. 

“Set the tray down and come back here,” Changkyun coos from the water. “I’m starting to feel cold.”

Hyunwoo shakes his head as he places the tray down on a low wooden table, teasing, “I think this is the perfect time to eat, don’t you, Changkyun-ah?”

The Prince motions for him to come back to the tub. He inches forward and Changkyun shakes his head, a sparkle in his eyes. “No. Closer.”

Hyunwoo takes another step forward and Changkyun grabs him, pulling him back into the tub with a splash. He retaliates by spraying the Prince with water and they laugh until they’re breathless.

Hyunwoo leans against the edge of the tub and grimaces when he sees how much water has sloshed onto the floor. “The water—”

“Leave it,” Changkyun says, his voice breathy as he straddles Hyunwoo’s lap—and then they’re kissing again, soft and insistent, much slower than before. They take their time and Hyunwoo focuses on the warmth of Changkyun’s skin, how solid he feels on his thighs. Changkyun’s lips part slightly and there is a flicker of tongue, a hint of wet, that makes Hyunwoo groan into his mouth—and Changkyun greedily swallows all his sounds.

“Let’s get out now. I want to see you,” the Prince murmurs against his lips and abruptly hops out of the tub, leaving Hyunwoo staring after him. He glances back over his shoulder, beckoning, teasing, and Hyunwoo finally jumps out, pausing only long enough to strip off his wet clothes before tackling the Prince to the futon. Laughing, they steal kisses as they pat their skin dry.

“You have a nice smile, Captain Son,” Changkyun murmurs warmly as they lie down on their sides, facing each other. Hyunwoo reaches out and touches one of his dimples, then runs a finger down his arm, watching as he shivers with anticipation, goosebumps rising on his skin. Changkyun catches his hand and gently kisses his rough palm.

Hyunwoo has always felt large and clumsy, like he is taking up too much space in the world, but Changkyun is looking at him like he’s special. Pretty. The only star shining in his universe.

Firelight plays on Changkyun’s skin and reflects in his dark eyes; he glows in the dappled shadows, utterly radiant. Hyunwoo’s chest tightens and he is struck again with how much he loves him; it’s almost overwhelming, the wave of emotion crashing through him. “You’re so beautiful, Changkyun-ah,” he can’t help but breathe as he reaches for him again. “Your mind. Your body. Your soul. Everything about you is beautiful.”

Changkyun closes his eyes briefly and Hyunwoo can’t help but lean in to kiss the corner of his mouth. The dimple in his cheek. “What do you want tonight?” he asks between soft kisses.

“Anything you’ll give me,” Changkyun murmurs back, voice low and breathy, his eyes snapping open, crackling with a renewed intensity that makes Hyunwoo feel hot all over.

Changkyun pushes on his chest until his back is resting against the soft satin sheets and he crawls on top of him. He laces their fingers together and pins Hyunwoo’s hands above his head. Then they are kissing again, deep and open-mouthed, until Hyunwoo’s thighs begin to tremble and his stomach is pulled taut. He feels Changkyun hard against his hipbone as they languidly roll their hips together and he feels himself begin to stiffen, his body heavy with need.

Changkyun runs a hand along his sides, fingernails scratching lightly over his skin as he kisses Hyunwoo’s stomach, then follows the trail of dark hair below his navel. Each brush of Changkyun’s fingertips and the flickering, featherlight touch of his tongue sends a dangerous thrill through him, making his stomach flip and jump. Changkyun presses a teasing kiss to his length then moves even lower, lifting Hyunwoo’s hips so that his tongue can flick hot and wet over his entrance, ripping a surprised moan from Hyunwoo’s throat.

“Do you want to feel me here?” Changkyun asks as he thumbs over the sensitive area, scattering kisses and soft nibbles over Hyunwoo’s fleshy inner thigh. Hyunwoo looks down his body and meets Changkyun’s hungry eyes, his hot mouth so close to where he wants him. 

Just the thought of feeling Changkyun inside him makes a flush rise to his skin. He licks his lips, mouth suddenly dry. “Please,” he whispers hoarsely.

Changkyun hesitates, frowning, his eyebrows drawn together in concern. “But you have been on horseback all day.”

“I can take some soreness, Changkyun-ah,” he assures, body already burning with need. He wants Changkyun’s hands back on him.

“No, I want to feel you inside me,” he says with finality as he passes Hyunwoo a glass vial of oil, then flips them over so that Hyunwoo is lying on top of him. He leans in and whispers hot against Hyunwoo’s ear, “Make sure I can still feel you tomorrow.”

Hyunwoo can’t help but grin. “As you wish, my Prince,” he responds cheekily.

He takes his time as he kisses down Changkyun’s body, soft lips reverent as he slowly discovers what makes his breath stutter, what makes him arch into his touch. Changkyun’s stomach flutters and tenses, his muscles strong and defined underneath his soft skin. He places a silk pillow underneath the Prince’s hips and Changkyun relaxes his legs, exposing himself.

He checks again that Changkyun is comfortable, then his mouth finally touches him. Changkyun flinches, his breath hitching and a low noise sounds in his throat as Hyunwoo licks him again.

“There, Hyunwoo,” he sighs, his eyebrows creasing in long overdue pleasure. His fingers curl in the satin sheets as Hyunwoo gently, thoroughly eats him out.

“Does it feel good?” Hyunwoo asks as he presses a kiss to his thigh.

“More,” is all Changkyun gasps out before Hyunwoo’s mouth is on him again, his tongue making his back arch; plush lips making his thighs quiver.

Too soon, Changkyun tugs on his hair, sending tingles racing down Hyunwoo’s spine as he pulls him back up his body to kiss him. Hyunwoo swallows his low moan, all the airy staccato sounds, as he carefully pushes in the first oiled finger. Taking his time, he watches the Prince's face carefully as discomfort slowly melts into pleasure. Slow and even slower, he adds two more fingers, moving them until Changkyun is pushing back against him with a sigh, _I’m ready._

Hyunwoo sits up and Changkyun straddles his strong thighs, lowering himself slowly; he feels unbelievably warm and tight around him and it takes everything within Hyunwoo to hold still, to wait for Changkyun to begin to move. He kisses Changkyun as he waits—smattering kisses over his nose and his eyelids. Kisses his dimples and the constellation of moles on his neck.

They meet eyes and Changkyun’s gaze is honest and raw, stripped bare of social rank and division. Hyunwoo feels exposed, entrusting this man with all the secret pieces of himself—and he’s never felt more safe. Treasured. 

His body is hot and electric as they move together. He feels sensation everywhere—in his fingers as they brush over soft skin and card through Changkyun’s black hair. Feels it burning in his lungs, the pleasure coiled hot and low in his stomach.

Their breathing quickens, sounding loud in the otherwise quiet room, and Hyunwoo kisses Changkyun’s fingertips, lacing their fingers together as they move faster, holding on to this moment tightly.

Because it’s temporary. A dream they can only experience once.

He feels sweat begin to pool in his collarbones and his lips brush over Changkyun’s damp skin, tasting salt and smelling the earthiness hidden underneath the floral scent. He whispers vows between kisses. Promises that he will keep until death.

_I will protect you with my life._

A kiss below his ear.

_I will cherish you._

Another one on his jaw. 

_I love you—_

Changkyun squeezes tightly around him, his face scrunching in pleasure. “I’m close, baby,” he breathes against Hyunwoo’s lips as he scratches fingernails down his back.

The endearment crashes through Hyunwoo like a spark of electricity and he feels hot. Delirious. He hears a whimper and realizes belatedly through the haze that it came from himself. “Scratch harder,” he grunts, already imagining the bright red marks on his skin. “I want to wear pieces of you on my skin for days. Make me remember—” _you. this moment. tonight._

He moves his hand between their bodies as Changkyun begins to lose his rhythm, chasing his own pleasure, and he finally touches him. He feels so hard in Hyunwoo's hand—skin flushed and sensitive. It’s not too much longer before Changkyun bites his shoulder— _hard_ —and he feels the first wave of pleasure roll through him just as Changkyun releases onto both of their stomachs. 

They fall back onto the futon next to each other, still breathing heavily, limbs boneless. Changkyun looks down at himself and giggles, which makes Hyunwoo giggle and they hold each other in the afterglow, kissing languidly. Euphoric.

Hyunwoo cleans them with strips of fresh linen dipped into scented water. “Sore?” he asks when he notices Changkyun wincing.

The Prince hums, a lazy smile on his lips as he plays with a lock of Hyunwoo’s hair. “A good kind of sore.”

Hyunwoo presses a gentle kiss to his flushed skin and watches as Changkyun’s eyes close and he makes a small, content noise. They laze by the fire, wearing the provided silk robes as they eat some of the fruit on the tray. Ripe orange persimmons. Crispy pears. Sweet apples. They savor every bite. Hyunwoo massages Changkyun’s feet and up his leg as he continues to eat.

“Remember when you first said that you love me?” Changkyun asks softly, curiosity glimmering in his eyes.

Hyunwoo hums; he can’t help but smile as he remembers. They were still at war and the King was raging mad that Changkyun had slipped away again, not wanting to be part of the war deliberations. Hyunwoo’s father sent him off to find the Prince while he stayed to hammer out war strategy.

Hyunwoo already knew where to find the Prince and took his time climbing up the hill, to a shaded spot under an old, twisted tree.

“The King is looking for you,” he announced, but the Prince continued to write in his tiny bound journal, unbothered.

Hyunwoo plopped down next to him, sitting silently, listening to the birds chittering. War seemed so far away on that hill overlooking the Kingdom.

“I will be going to battle again,” he said quietly and only then did the Prince still his movements and look at him.

“Let me draw you,” he muttered after a moment. “Hold still.”

The Prince took his time, the charcoal scraping over the paper; it felt like an eternity before he finally ripped the paper out and handed it to Hyunwoo.

Hyunwoo blinked down at the indecipherable charcoal marks—and then it dawned on him. They were music notes. “What do they mean?”

The Prince smiled, dimples popping in each cheek. “Come back safely and I’ll show you.”

Hyunwoo went to war because it was his duty, but he came back because he finally had someone to come home to. After checking Hyunwoo for injuries, the Prince sat on a silk cushion and played the notes on the gayageum. As the song ended, Hyunwoo whispered the secret he had been carrying for too long in his heart.

The memory leaves a faint smile on his lips, and Hyunwoo pats the space next to him. They lie down together and he holds Changkyun as the fire begins to die.

“Do you remember the song you wrote?”

Changkyun nods.

“Can you hum it for me?”

The Prince turns around in his arms and nuzzles into the crook of his neck. The rest of the world seems to fall away as he begins to hum the song, his deep voice imbued with love. Joy. Hyunwoo can’t even begin to put into words everything that Changkyun means to him, all he makes him feel. Life is more meaningful, more beautiful, when he’s around him, like Changkyun sparks a light inside himself. The song somehow encompasses all that—conveying more than mere words ever could.

Suddenly Hyunwoo’s chest hurts. The pleasant scent of jasmine permeating the warm air is now heavy. Cloying. He can’t seem to pull enough oxygen into his lungs.

Son Hyunwoo is the captain of the Royal Guard. Strong. Fearless. Brave. But right now he’s struck with a cold, slithering fear. What if he never sees Changkyun again? What if he can never hold him in his arms? Show him how much he loves him?

He closes his eyes, feeling silent tears roll down his cheek and clog his throat as the song comes to an end. As he holds Changkyun, he never wants to let go. He doesn’t want reality to rip through this ephemeral dream, exposing the impending nightmare. Changkyun gently kisses away his tears and their bodies are so entwined that they have practically become one. “I don’t want to leave you,” Hyunwoo whispers against Changkyun’s lips as they kiss again, soft and warm and salty.

“Then don’t go,” the Prince whispers back, voice just as choked. Changkyun had accepted the marriage out of deference to his father with a quiet, solemn finality, but right now his eyes are wet. Raw with grief.

Their lips touch again as the final ember blinks out into a wisp of smoke and Hyunwoo looks at him one last time, eyes tracing his features as exhaustion finally overtakes him. He whispers into Changkyun's ear everything he will never be able to say to him again, then slips out of the room and into the cold predawn air.

/

A bell tolls, mournful and oppressive, as Hyunwoo dresses in heavy silk, his horse decorated with fine ribbon. A somber silence hangs over the procession of soldiers as they ride past the border and into the Kingdom of Southern Beom. The palace is nestled safely upon a hill in the distance; once heavily guarded, it is now open to visitors. 

Changkyun sits regally on a thickly padded, lacquered palanquin. There is no laughter. No chatter among the soldiers. Hyunwoo’s fingers are numb on his reins as he leads the men past well-wishers through the outer palatial gate. 

The guards dismount, kneeling on the stone ground of the palace courtyard. A hushed silence falls over the expectant crowd. Then drums begin to beat. Hyunwoo’s heart hammers in time with the drums and his head is bent in strict deference. He flicks his eyes up just as Changkyun walks slowly past him. An exquisitely dressed princess floats like a ghost silently next to him, a diplomatic distance between them as they proceed up the stairs to the raised stage, richly decorated with vibrant silks and freshly-cut flowers. 

The master of ceremonies begins to speak, voice echoing as he recites the virtue of this marriage—how this ceremony will forever bind the two families, the two kingdoms and all the people in the land together.

Hyunwoo and Changkyun’s eyes find each other over the bent heads of the crowd as the man continues to speak. Hyunwoo swallows thickly, feeling his heart begin to splinter as each word spoken is another forever separating them.

But Changkyun sits there with the pieces of Hyunwoo’s bleeding heart in his hands and slowly moulds it back together.

_I’ll come back to you, Hyunwoo_ , the Prince had whispered into the crook of his neck the night before. And right now, that promise is written plainly on his face, in his eyes, clear for everyone to see. Love is not fragile—Hyunwoo finally realizes as he holds Changkyun’s blazing gaze—and it can’t be subverted or contained. It is fierce and resilient; all it needs is a little faith for it to grow.

_I am yours_ , Changkyun mouths silently, _only yours._ He continues to hold Hyunwoo’s eyes as he repeats the words that will forever legally bind him to someone else: I vow to give myself to you, stand by you and join with you not only in this lifetime but one thousand more.

Hyunwoo feels each word carve into his heart and he mouths them back to Changkyun, watching as his eyes briefly close, as if committing it all to memory. Hot tears scratch the backs of his eyes as he watches Changkyun leave the courtyard, gazes locked together until the Prince is forced to face forward. 

Hyunwoo leaves the courtyard as joyous noise explodes all around him. He finds a quiet area, tucked away from the celebration, and presses his forehead against the cool stone wall, trying to make sense of the fractured pieces of himself. He can still smell the jasmine faintly wafting off his skin and he punches the wall once, twice, and looks down at his newly bloodied knuckles. Numb.

The world continues to swirl around him and he closes his eyes against the nausea sloshing in his gut.

“The King commands that we return to Gyeongso immediately—” Hoseok abruptly cuts himself off and Hyunwoo flinches when he feels a gentle hand settle onto his shoulder. “Are you okay, Hyunwoo?”

He knows what he is supposed to say; he knows that he’s supposed to laugh off his friend’s quiet concern and return to his duty as captain without a backward glance. But his body is rigid and he feels as if liquid is slowly filling his lungs, suffocating him with grief.

“No,” he chokes out, too honest. Hyunwoo turns to look at his friend. “I’m not okay at all.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! ♡


End file.
